MY PRIDE
by Overly Hysterical Scarecrow
Summary: Gary is breaking down. It's all up to one boy. The victim, the friend, the accomplice. But knowing Gary, he's too proud to accept any help, even if it means losing control. Genres may change, still not sure how to classify this one. Songfic-ish.


a/n - I had a hard time deciding which way to go with this fic. Should it be in Gary's POV? Or Petey's? Finally I decided on both. D8 It's my first Bully fic (and first fic to be posted on this site) so I hope you find it enjoyable.

Certain phrases are taken from "Pride" by SOiL. **Bold phrases** are from Gary. _Italic phrases_ are from Peter. Kind of fits their personalities?

I'm not much of a Gary/Peter fanatic to be honest. Probably because I hate Gary so much. (And squee all over Petey. He deserves better.) But I've opened my eyes to how much Pete lets Gary walk all over him. I guess there is a reason behind it. So yes, this fic leans more to a sexual relationship between the two boys, but it doesn't have to be taken that way. See it however you want, and no harassing me because of what you see.

disclaimer – I do not own Bully or the any of the characters mentioned below. Nor do I own the song, "Pride" by SOiL. No profit is being gained. Hell, I don't even own a copy of Bully. I am just borrowing it from my boyfriend's friend. That's how much of an Anti-profit sort of deal is going on here. 8/

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MY PRIDE **--**

part one/complex simplicities

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**I've never gotten the simple thrill of a solo day. **At times, it is nothing short of torture. This school. These people.

Sick. Sickening. Everything at this school is decrepit. The walls of peeling paint, the desks of gouged wood, the broken mattresses of the boys' dorm, the clogged toilets, the faulty hierarchy of the student body. Rundown. Falling apart.

I stand here waiting to catch them. It's a duty. A mission.

You ask- Why? Why own a desolate pile of stone and memories? Why own corrupt disciplinarians who do anything but mentor us in how to be successful? Lastly, why the hell would anyone want the ignorant, obscure adolescents that roam the halls unable to so much take a piss without causing a riot?

Simply because **I** can. I'm the only one who can.

Bells ring. Chiming away at my ears. Ears that have been numbed by the harassment and brutality of unfulfilled taunts. Dulled. Deafened. Doors open, flood of bodies spray out. Skateboards tear up the railings. Sparks fly. Wind is whipping my face- carrying the scent of spray paint and B.O. My feet sound so short and precise as I click across the stone. As they should. I've mastered this earth. I duck as a football is whipped at my head. From behind. I knew it was coming. So predictable. Everything. Happening just when it should. Turn right, yes taking a right- there. Right there. My throne. Surrounded by dying trees, broken eggs, and tags disclosing that Preps suck. I enter.

Life at this school is so simple. That's why I need to gain control.

It's a way out. A way in is a way out. It's what these morons can't seem to get. It's what I've been breathing this past year. This...Poison. I feel it enter through my nose, but I can taste it in my mouth. It's sour. So goddamn sour. And no matter how much you spit or guzzle- it won't leave.

I guess the revelations are pretty hard to swallow.

I kick open the door. Petey doesn't even flinch. Normal. Simple. Of course, he'd be here before me. I tell him- I'm going to own this school.

He responds- sure. Sure, you will.

The mockery of this school is hilarious.

This time I mean it Petey. I say. This time it will happen. I can't stand these idiots. I'll toss my books on my bed. Now, off to find Jimmy. Petey says something under his breath. I laugh. Scared, timid Petey. Whatever he said, it's wrong. I tell him. I say, "**I've always backed my words with what I do.**" Because I am more than just words. I'm more than an idea scribbled on a chalkboard or in a stall, or tagged on the dorm in an effort to enlighten. Now turn to leave. Leave to find Jim. Door shuts behind me. Just like I predicted.

"_I'll always bite my tongue to comfort you_." The words barely make a whisper as the final click of the handle tells me the door is closed. I lean back on my bed. The anxious sigh climbes out of my chest, and I subconsciously feel the inhaler in my pocket. He'll be back in just a few moments time. He'll tell me to follow him. And despite any notions I may have, I will.

So simple.

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Thanks for reading. The next chapter will be much longer and better. I promise.

Comments make me happeh!


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